


Did somebody call for a Doctor?

by kittiesinthetardis (orphan_account)



Category: Doctor Who (2005), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Doctor Who, Crack, Daleks - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Take Me Home Tour, The boys are still One Direction, basically crack, lots of swearing, say crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kittiesinthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Direction isn’t quite the same. Two boys are in very much need of an intervention. Or a Doctor. Or maybe, an alien invasion. </p><p>"What the hell is that?!"<br/>"It's a police box. Can't you read?"</p><p>Or, the one where the Doctor is here to help. But not their relationship. Mostly just, you know, planet earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trppin'

**Author's Note:**

> Set near the end of the TMH tour. 
> 
> If you don't watch Doctor Who, you might be a little lost.
> 
> :)

“What the fuck was _that_?”

Harry glanced up at Zayn, one eyebrow raised. “What was what?” he asks, feigning innocence and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. _Man_ he’s hungry.

Zayn rolls his eyes, wiping at his sweat shined face with a white towel. “You and Louis; it’s getting ridiculous.”

Harry tries not to tense at the accusation and pretends to be engrossed in his nails. Maybe he should paint them black – that’d tick Louis off. “Dunno what you’re talking about, mate.”

Zayn laughs bitterly. “For fuck _sakes_. You two are gonna fuck this up for everyone you know.”

Alright. So they’re being a _bit_ horrible… or ignoring each other – but that’s harsh. They both wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the band.

Harry shrugs, meets Zayn’s eye.  “We won’t,”

Zayn looks like he’s about to argue, but then the other three are barreling through the door, laughing off their post-show high. Niall spots Harry and Zayn, and his face lights up. “Hazza, Z- _dawg_!” he launches himself onto the back of the dressing room sofa. “Come out with us!”

Zayn’s gaze flicks between Harry and Louis. “All of us?”

Harry rolls his eyes, but Niall’s nodding vigorously. “Yep, _yep_ , brother!” he drums his hands on the leather cushions impatiently. “ _C’mon_!” He’s like a kid on too much sugar after a show.

Liam and Louis look to be having a discussion similar to the one Zayn just had with Harry. Not surprising. They give them a stern talking to after almost every show. Harry really just wants to eat and then sleep for a week. But the tours almost over – so he supposes that can wait.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry says, and judging by the disgruntled look on Louis’ face, he’s made the right choice.

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Harry hears Louis mutter. He ignores him. As usual.

 

 

It’s not really something you get used to – the fame. Yes, it’s horrible getting mobbed, Harry’ll admit, but it’s wicked to know just how much the fans love you.

They manage to get into the club unscathed, and Harry heads straight off to the bar. He’s going to need to be sufficiently drunk in order to put up with Louis Tomlinson for a night. They hardly ever all head out together – they’ve just drifted apart, sort of. Like when your siblings head off to college. Harry and Louis are probably to blame for that.

 

 

A few hours in, and Harry’s dancing with Niall. The club is expensive, and private – so they don’t have much to worry about. He’s well on his way to drunk, when he spots Louis dancing with some blonde girl. Well, you can _hardly_ call it dancing. They may as well be fucking right there on the dance floor.

Rage bubbles up inside Harry, and he just can’t help it. Liquid courage makes him stalk up to Louis, grab his arm and rip him away from the blonde girl.

Louis looks at him, wide-eyed, curling his lip up into an almost-snarl. “ _What the fuck!?”_ he shouts over the music.

Harry’s dragging him toward the bathroom, a large hand curled around Louis’ bicep. He used to be able to touch his fingers together – but they’ve all been working out pretty hard. He shakes off the thought, waving off body-guards as he shoves Louis into the bathroom. It’s empty, thanks to security. Louis stumbles when Harry lets him go, drunk off his ass. No wonder Harry could man handle him so easily. _Oh_ dear. He shouldn’t think about man handling. _Damn_.

“What the fuck do _you_ want?” Louis spits. He’s always been surprisingly good with keeping his words from slurring together, even when he’s well drunk.

“You’ve got a _fucking girlfriend_ , you _idiot_ – or did you forget again?” he spits back, fists clenching at his sides. He wants to punch the good looks off his face, so bad.

Louis smirks, folding his arms. “ _Oh_ , is somebody _jealous_?”

“Fuck off,” Harry hisses. “Don’t you think you’re fucking this band up enough?” he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

But Louis just laughs bitterly. “ _I’m_ fucking it up? Let’s not forget who fell in love with who.”

Harry’s stomach clenches. He wants to hit him. He wants to cry. Or maybe he just wants it all to go back how it was two years ago. “That’s not fair,” he says softly, voice cracking. “And you know it.”

Louis raises his eyebrows. “ _Yeah?_ Life’s not fair, Styles, get used to it.”

 

 

Louis makes to storm back out, but finds the door won’t budge. He slams a fist into it, willing himself to get a grip, and not have an emotional breakdown. He takes a deep breath and stares at the door. Hmm. “I don’t remember this having a lock on it,” he says quietly, mostly to himself.

But _of_ _course_ Harry answers back. Little twat always has to have the last word. “Considering you’ve drunk your weight in alcohol, I’m not surprised your memories a bit fuzzy,” the younger boy remarks, having regained some of his pride once again.

Louis gives him a quick glare. He focuses, trying to clear his mind from the alcoholic blur. He pushes the door – nothing. Okay, so then he pulls the door – still nothing. _Fantastic_. He’s locked in a bathroom with his least favourite person on the planet. Except maybe Nick Grimshaw. Nah, he could probably deal with that hipster fuck-wit better than this one.

He doesn’t realize he’s made a noise of protest, until Harry’s shoving him out of the way. “Maybe it’s a cunt-proof lock,” he smiles bitterly, “better let me try.”

Louis wants to make some kind of smart rebuttal, maybe something like, ‘ _you’re the one with a cunt’_ but he can hear a weird noise. Is someone breathing _really_ loudly?

Harry’s nattering about the door – how it’s Louis’ fault, how _everything_ always is – but Louis’ far too busy watching the old style blue police box appear in the middle of the bathroom.

“ _Harry_ ,” he hisses, blindly grabbing at Harry, too afraid to take his eyes off the blue box. Like maybe it’ll disappear – same way it just _fucking appeared_. Maybe he’s tripping. “Am I tripping?” he whispers.

Harry turns around, ever-present scowl etched onto his stupid face. And then it’s gone, replaced with a gaping look of confusion. “What the hell is _that_?”

“It’s a police box,” someone says. “Can’t you read?”

They both jump, eyes zeroing in on the pale man in a suit with a large hunter green over-coat and – a bow tie? – who just walked out from behind the blue box. He’s examining a map, holding it up at all different angles, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration.

How had they not noticed him?

Louis doesn’t realize how far he’s cowered into Harry’s side, until Harry clears his throat, motion rumbling through his chest. “ _Uh_ – you alright mate?”

And of course _Harry_ would fucking _ask_ if they’re _alright_. Some hipster weirdo just _appeared_ into the once thought _empty_ bathroom – and he asks if they’re alright. _Christ_. They’re probably a crazy fan – or maybe he’s actually just one of Harry’s hipster friends, pulling a prank. He hopes.

The stranger glances up at them, like he’d just noticed they were standing there, huddled up against the exit. He grins. “Oh _hello_! I’m The Doctor,” he follows their gaze to the blue police box, and points at it, “that’s my police box,” he beams. “And you are?”

“Is he kidding?” Louis deadpans. Seriously. Who doesn’t know who they are these days?

Harry snorts. “Fame certainly hasn’t gotten to _you_ ,” he mutters bitterly. “M’Harry, that’s Louis.” He tells ‘ _The Doctor’_.

“Lou- _ee_ ,” he drawls, repeating himself like he’s tasting the word. “Good name, I like it,” then he glances at Harry, “not that Harry’s _not_ a good name. I’ve met a Harry. Or twelve. Lost count, I suppose.” Then he’s looking at his maps again. “Can someone tell me when I am?”

“Sydney?” Harry tries.

Louis sighs dramatically, shifting himself away from Harry slightly, since he figures this guy’s _probably_ not a pop-star-murdering-psychopath. “He said _when_ , Harold, _do_ keep up.”

The Doctor, clicks his fingers, and points them at Louis, eyes still on the maps. “Smart one, I like him.”

Louis ignores the scowl Harry sends him. “– it’s October the – _shit_ , twentieth?”

 “Twenty-third,” Harry corrects.

Louis hums. “Time flies.”

The Doctor looks up quickly, grinning again. “It does actually – _well_ , sometimes it does. Mostly it just,” he makes a gesture with his hand, “happens.” He squints at the map. “I actually meant what _year_ , but judging by the way you’re dressed – and the fact that there’s two boys in a bathroom together – clearly not, _you know_ , doing bathroom-y stuff, more like – _boy-y_ stuff.”

Louis tenses. He wants to correct him – declare his straightness, just like he’s meant to. But he finds himself curling closer to Harry. _Harry_. He misses Harry.

Fuck he’s so drunk.

The Doctor glances up, smiling sweetly. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that – I’d say it’s around…” he licks his lips, rubs his left index finger and thumb together. “2014?”

“2013,” Louis corrects quietly.

The Doctor nods, “Right – _well_ , I was close. All sort of blurs into one, once you get a bit older – did you say Australia?”

Both boys nod.

He frowns, tossing the map over his shoulder. “Was _hoping_ for New Zealand – but this’ll do just fine.”

Did he just _glare_ at the police box?

He’s looking at them both curiously now. “Why are you still in here? Shouldn’t you be running to safety by now?” he flicks his hand. “As humans do,”

Right-o. Not weird. At _all_.

“ _Doors_ –” Harry squeaks, and then clears his throat. “Doors locked.”

The Doctor smiles at that. “ _Excellent_ – love a locked door, me.” Then he trudges over, waving the boys to the side, and pointing a – metal wand? – At the door. It makes a whirring sound and then a sad sound. The Doctor frowns, makes a noise in thought, taps the device on his palm, and examines it. “Strange,” he mutters. “ _Surely_ not…”

There’s a large crash from somewhere in the club; making Harry and Louis jump. People start screaming. The Doctor looks stricken. And then there’s a loud voice coming from the other side of the door.

“ _Exterminate!_ ” 


	2. Invaded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They enter the police box and – well.  
> “It’s bigger on the inside,” Harry says softly, in awe  
> The Doctor points at Harry, smiling at them. “That’s my favorite part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV will switch between Harry and Louis, if you didn't already notice.

“No, no, no – _no_!” the Doctor mutters frantically, backing up a few paces, before turning on his heel and heading into the blue box.

Louis looks to Harry; eyebrows raised in question, panicked expression across his face. Harry shakes his head. He tries the door again.

“No point,” the Doctor calls from inside the box, “it’s a temporal – oh _never mind_ ,” he pops his head out the door. What the hell is he doing in there anyway, calling for help? “Not earth-tech.” he tells them.

Earth _what_ –?

“Now come along, lads.” He grins. “Never had _lads_ before,” Then he slaps himself on the cheek, frowning. “Not the time.” And he’s disappeared back inside.

Louis moves off first, hesitant, but he’s always been the bravest; always wanting to protect Harry. Not so much these days. They enter the police box and – _well_.

“It’s bigger on the inside,” Harry says softly, in awe.

Louis looks lost for words too, clutching onto Harry’s forearm in some strange attempt to be protective. It’s not really helping.

The Doctor points at Harry from where he’s whizzing around the center beam – bit – _thingy_ , smiling at them. “That’s my favorite part.”

And. What?

“ _Aha_!” the Doctor shouts, and Harry feels Louis flinch. “Found it!” then he’s heaving something onto the – what looks to be – a control panel?

This place is ridiculous. It looks like something out of Star Trek, not that Harry’s into sci-fi movies, but –

“What the _hell_ is going on?!” Louis finally shouts, stepping away from the taller boy, and this time, Harry flinches.

The Doctor pauses, face looking uncharacteristically serious. Not that Harry knows him all that well. He steps closer to them. “You’re under attack,”

“By _who_?” Louis demands, chin raised defiantly.

“More like _what_ ,” the Doctor corrects. “Daleks,” he’s fiddling with that strange wand again. “They’re not from around here.”

“Then where _are_ they from?” Louis asks, arms folded across his chest defensively.

Harry wants to move. He wants to touch and look at things; this room is so wonderfully impressive, and he’s still hoping this is some kind of elaborate prank – but _god_ , he’s just so fucking _frightened_.

“Skaro, sort of,” the Doctor says offhandedly, “but let’s just get to the point and say aliens.”

 Both boys tense. That _can’t_ be. Just. No.

“Aliens,” Louis deadpans, disbelieving.

“Yes,” the Doctor says firmly, “aliens, monsters – they’re _all_ real. _Well_. Maybe not vampires… but almost sometimes.” He shrugs, looks at the boys intently. “The things that lurk in the dark, hiding under your bed, when you shiver for no reason – monsters are _real_.”

 

 

Harry’s now sitting on a chair – still in the police box-room-building- _thing_ ; he still hasn’t worked that one out just yet – after Louis had forcefully shoved him into one (“Probably best if young Harry has a seat,” the Doctor said, “Before he faints. I know a fainter when I see one. ”).

It’s strange, he thinks, because he believes this guy. This weird guy, who’s wearing _suspenders_ – and has a blue _bow tie_ on, and lives in a _fucking police box_. Louis believes him too – Harry can tell. Despite the fact he’s grilling the Doctor for answers.

“What is this place?” Louis asks calmly, running his finger tips along the center console, looking around the room in awe.

The Doctors still fiddling with the large piece of metal he dug out of somewhere. “It’s a time machine,”

Louis pauses, eyebrow raised. “Come again?”

“T.A.R.D.I.S,” the Doctor says with a wave of his hand, “it’s a T.A.R.D.I.S, and it takes me anywhere or any _when_ I want.” He glares into the distance. “Most of the time,”

Harry might pass out again, so he puts his head between his legs, groaning. “ _Oh_ God,”

Louis barely spares him a glance, eyes still on the Doctor. “And we’re just supposed to _believe_ you?”

The Doctor shrugs, not even making eye contact, pulls a lever, before saying: “Step outside.”

“Why –”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” The Doctor interrupts, and points at the door again.

Harry wants to laugh. Nobody talks to Louis like that. It’s _fantastic_.

Louis is scowling, but he heads toward the door anyway, pulls the door open and –

“What the fuck,”

Harry stands on shaky legs. He can hear music – _their_ music, actually. He steps up behind Louis, looks through the door and – _oh my god_.

“That’s – that’s _us_ ,” he blurts.

Louis is lost for words, apparently. Not surprising, since they’re currently looking onto a stage, where he can actually _see_ himself, Louis and the other boys running around on stage singing Kiss You. He remembers this, of course. They’re all wearing orange, and he knows it’s from their show in Amsterdam a few months back.

This is impossible. How can they be _there_ – _how can they_ – oh _god_. He doesn’t even want to think about it. This is all too insane. He pinches himself. Awake, yes well awake. He must be _dead_. That’s the only explanation. He’s dead, and he’s looking back on his life now. Yep.

Harry sighs. If only it were that simple.

Louis shuts the door with a click, presses his forehead onto it. Harry wobbles on his feet, and stumbles back to his chair. Chair is safe.

“Thought you didn’t know who we were,” is what Louis says first, surprisingly. It’s muffled by the door, but it’s loud enough that the Doctor hears.

“I brought you onto my ship, you _really_ think I wasn’t going to do my research?” it’s not really a question that requires an answer.

Harry’s head is back between his legs, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down and not throw up everywhere. It’s not working too well.

He hears the tell-tale sound of Louis’ TOMS on the metal floor. “Okay,” Louis says firmly, sounding much more together than Harry. “What’s that thing?”

“This?”

Harry peeks his head up, spots clouding his vision from having his eyes shut so tight. He sees the Doctor holding up his wand thing.

“It’s a Sonic Screwdriver.”

 _Right_. Head back between the legs then.

 

 

“Alright, I’m done.”

Louis glances up from where his head was in his hands, to see Harry standing from his chair. The Doctor’s watching the curly-haired boy too, though his eyes aren’t really visible through the safety goggles.

“Done with _what_?” Louis demands.

 Harry scoffs. Bitterness has never been a pretty sight on him. “What do you _think_?” he gestures his hands wildly. “ _This_ – all of this _shit_!” his voice cracks slightly, and Louis knows he’s scared.

Louis moves off the wall he was lent on, steps closer “Harry –”

“ _Don’t_ –” Harry spits at him. “Don’t try and tell me this –” he points at the Doctor, who merely continues hacking away at the chunk of metal with a blow torch. “Is okay – _none_ of this is _okay_!”

Louis swallows. He’s not entirely sure whether to be gentle with Harry – because he’s changed _so much_ over the past year, and Louis is seriously lost on how to calm this boy down. “I was going to tell you to shut the fuck up, actually.” He blurts instead.

Harry looks at him, watery eyes wide and confused.

Well. Maybe that works.

“I was wondering who’d be the first to have a break down,” the Doctor says offhandedly, examining his work.

“ _What_ are you even _doing_?!” Harry snaps, hissing at him.

Doctor pulls of his goggles, reveals an almost hurt expression. “ _Things_ – what are _you_ even doing?” he argues back, like a grumpy child.

Harry throws his arms up in defeat, and then pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes shut. “Just take me home.”

Louis would throw in the tour pun, but he’s a little out of sorts today. So he watches Harry instead, waiting for the Doctors answer.

“ _Yes_ , well I _would_ ,” the Doctor says awkwardly, “but it’s sort of been –” he makes a grabbing gesture into thin air, “invaded.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm far too excited to write this. I just want to mash the keyboard instead of typing actual words.  
> Hope you like it! :)


	3. Run!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick trip onto a Dalek ship.

“Invaded,” Louis drawls. “By _aliens_ ,”

“Yes,” he eyes Louis curiously, like maybe he thinks he’s a bit deaf. Or just stupid. “Did you not listen when I said aliens were real? Thought I made myself quite clear,” he mutters the last part.

Louis inhales deeply, wills himself not to cuss at the man with a _fucking time machine_.  But Harry pipes up before Louis can reply.

“The Dalek’s then, yeah?”

“ _Exactly_!” the Doctor calls. He proceeds to hold up the hunk of metal that he’s been working on for god-knows how long. “This is a Dalek eye stalk.”

“ _What?!_ ” both boys yelp at the same time.

The Doctor flinches back, hopeful expression falling from his face. “Why’d you say it like that?” he looks at the metal – eye stalk, then back to them. “It’s just a –”

“Shouldn’t it be all –?” Harry starts, gestures his hand.

“– gross,” Louis fills in for him, ignoring the way Harry’s eyes flicker to him hopefully.

The Doctor glances at the eye stalk again. “Why would it be _gross_?”

“It just _sounds_ … gross?” Harry says slowly.

Louis agrees. _Eye stalk_ sounds disgusting. Where’s the blood and guts – or at least alien slime. Maybe he’s just stereotyping now. He’s never _actually_ seen a proper alien, he supposes. Didn’t even know they were real a few hours ago.

“Well it’s _not_ gross,” the Doctor tells them. “It’s very un- _gross_ – and it’s going to help us find them.”

“Why would we _want_ to find them?” Louis says exasperatedly, bumping his arm into Harry slightly – on accident, of course. Or on purpose. Who’s counting?

The Doctor rolls his eyes at them, and points the sonic screw driver at eye stalk. “You two are _rubbish_ companions.” He shakes his head, disappointed. “I’ll have you know, saving the earth is part of the job.”

“Job – what ‘ _job’_?” 

“As a companion – oh _never mind_ , just stand around and look pretty, if you must.” He growls at them both.

“Not too difficult,” Louis mutters, because he’s Louis Tomlinson – and he _always_ gets the last word. It’s a terrible habit, but he’s just not able to break it. Not that he tries very hard.

He sees Harry scowl at him from the corner of his eye, and he pointedly ignores that too. He pointedly ignores everything about Harry these days. Like the way he’s muscling up, or the way his hairs styled now, how much taller he is that Louis – or how low and rough his voice would get now after a few rounds of – _um_. Yep. _Totally_ ignoring all that.

 

 

The Doctor claps his hands together. “So that’s the plan!”

Harry glances at Louis, who looks just as confused. “Um,” he clears his throat. “What?”

The Doctor frowns at them. “The one I just said.”

“You didn’t _say_ anything.” Louis bites out.

The Doctor blinks, still frowning. He rubs at his chin. “Mustn’t have said it out loud,” he mutters, “Right! _Well_ , yes, the plan then – we’re going to board the ship and –”

“Woah, woah, _woah_ , mate –” Louis interrupts. “– That’s a bloody _rubbish_ plan.”

The Doctor looks hurt, before looking to Harry. “Is he always like this? He’s terribly moody.”

Harry can’t stop the snicker of laughter, to which Louis scowls at him. “Yeah, most of the time,” Harry says quietly, making Louis turn on him.

“ _Oh_ , so you know _everything_ about me, then?” Louis spits at him, folding his arms across his chest.

 _No_ , he thinks, Harry did not just say ‘ _I know everything about Louis Tomlinson_ ,’ but he’s not sure Louis will accept that answer. “Chill out, for fucks sake,” he sighs, “we’re talking about _invading_ an _alien_ _ship_ , and you’re too busy trying to be in charge and bite my head off,” he tries to keep his voice level, knowing it’s too easy to set Louis off these days.

Louis sets his jaw, looks away. “Continue,” he tells the Doctor.

The Doctor’s looking between them curiously. “Right…” he nods. “Get aboard the Dalek ship, see what they’re up to.” He pockets the screw driver into his coat before adding; “You know, aside from world domination,”

Harry’s heart lurches at the possibility of the _death of the entire human race_ , but then the Doctor’s throwing a lever, and the floor’s ripped out from under Harry’s feet.

 

 

Louis feels sick after that. Like he’s just been on a roller coaster. Seven times in a row. “Does it always feel like that?” He asks the Doctor, from where he’s clinging onto the railing for dear life, watching Harry pick himself up off the floor.

“Travelling through the time vortex does that to you – you’ll get used to it,” he tells them before bounding toward the door. “Right – follow my lead.” And then he’s gone.

“Are you –” okay, he starts instinctively, but then bites his tongue. He shakes his head, brushes off the dejected look Harry’s sending him, and he steps out the door.

He feels like he’s inside a Star Wars movie. Everything is screaming _wrong_ at him, but he can’t help but gaze around in fascination. Harry’s got the same look on his face when he steps out. Louis wants to tell him how pretty he is. How green his eyes are. Perhaps he’s still a bit drunk. No, probably not.

“Very strange,” the Doctor murmurs a few meters away. He’s pointing the screw driver around, getting readings – or whatever it does.

It’s horribly quiet, sending chills down Louis’ spine and making the hairs on his neck stand up. It’s not a feeling he wants to get used to.

The Doctor motions them to follow, and then puts a finger to his lips; universal code for _shut the fuck_ _up_. Louis never had been too good at that.

“ _For god’s sake Harold_ ,” he blurts, “If you follow any closer I’m going to –” but then he’s got a large hand over his mouth; a hand he’s far too familiar with. He wants to bite it, and maybe punch Harry in the face. Or lick his face. Could go either way.

He doesn’t do anything, however, because there are voices down the hall.

“ _We will take the human leader_.”

“ _Yes, the human leader may be of use.”_

The voices are getting closer. The three of them are huddled against a wall, Harry’s hand still clasped to his mouth, and Harry’s chest pressed to his back. His hearts beating so fast, it’s possible he’s going into cardiac arrest. _Oh god, I’m going to die_.

The Daleks appear into their line of sight – and they’re clearly in view to the Daleks because –

“ _Intruders_! _Exterminate_!”

Louis frowns, shoves Harry’s hand off his mouth and puts his hands on his hips. He might be frowning, too. “Uh, that’s _not_ – _that’s not an alien_ – that’s a _robot_ , mate.”

Because clearly _right now_ is a good time for this argument. He can feel Harry’s horror radiating from him. Maybe it’s just hot in here.

The Doctor turns and gapes at him, “ _That’s a_ –” he points at the creature, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. “Are you _mad?!_ That’s not a bloody _robot_!”

Louis goes to counter, _that is a fucking robot you bow-tie wearing twat,_ but then the alien-robot-thing is pointing a plunger at them and _oh it’s actually a gun_.

“ _Run_!” the Doctor’s yelling, flailing his arms in what looks to be a defensive stance. Somehow, he manages not to get shot at.

“Run _where_?!” Louis squeaks, dragging Harry and sprinting after the Doctor.

 “Away!” the Doctor yells back at them, “ _Away_ from the robots!”

Louis wants to hold Harry’s hand, but he’s currently running for his life – so he sort of needs his arms to give momentum. But he wants to hold Harry’s hand none-the-less.

He barely registers the fact that the Doctor’s beaming the sonic up above his head, green light glowing in the dull lights of the Dalek ship, until they’re all falling over each other, safely inside the T.A.R.D.I.S.

Materialization. Cool.

“Ow,” The Doctor whines from underneath Louis. “My chin,”

Louis tries to scramble off him, but there’s a warm, solid weight pressing onto his back – and _wow_ , Louis fights off a blush and fails because _Harry_ is on _top_ of him. Stop it.

Harry groans, pulling himself off Louis, muttering apologies. Louis just waves him off, refusing to make eye-contact until his face stops resembling a tomato. 

The Doctor gets up, rubbing at his chin with a frown. Then he claps his hands together, drawing the boys’ attention. “Right, _so_ – _Daleks_ , how do we fight ‘em?”

Louis glances at Harry, who glances at him with an equally confused expression. They look back to the Doctor, who just sighs.

“ _Oh_ , what do you both know,” he mutters sarcastically, turning around and pacing around the T.A.R.D.I.S console. “Daleks invading Australia.” He stops; looks up at the ceiling. “Why _Australia_?” he shakes his head, continues pacing.

Louis and Harry stand against the railing, close enough that Louis thinks he can feel the hairs from Harry’s arm tickling his. Or maybe he’s just paranoid.

**  
**

Twenty minutes pass by, and neither Harry nor Louis has uttered a word – which Harry thinks is an incredible feat for the sassy little shit beside him. He’s not sure if there was a certain point in time when they stop being Louis and Harry. Perhaps it was gradual. Or, perhaps it was after they were told to stop touching one another, or they’d no longer be _One Direction_. Because, you know, it’s 2013 and gay marriage is legalized almost everywhere, but gay members of a boy band – _nuh uh_ , not okay. But alas, they had to consider everyone’s feelings. So, they stopped. They stopped being best friends, stopped hanging out, stopped the casual screwing, stopped falling in love –

 _Oh wait_. No, Harry was too far gone.

“ _Of course_!”

Harry’s dragged from his thoughts by the Doctor. Louis seems to be in the same boat. Or ship. _Space_ _ship_. It’s always an appropriate time for puns.

He’s frantically pushing buttons, flicking switches and pulling levers on the T.A.R.D.I.S console. He looks manic. “Time rift – _oh my_ , _why_ didn’t I notice it _earlier_?”

Louis clears his throat. “Uh, what?”

The Doctor flinches, like he forgot they were there. Again. “Time rift – in _Australia_ ,” he says gleefully. A little too gleefully for a _god damn alien invasion_. “They’re using the power – built a nice portal from the ship to the earth’s core – those _sneaky_ Daleks,”

Harry shakes his head. “I don’t –”

“We’re going to have to destroy it.” The Doctor interrupts.

“ _Destroy the world!?_ ”

He frowns. “ _What_ –? No, _of course_ _not_! Who do you think I _am_?”

Neither of the boys answer.

The Doctor nods slowly, realization drawing on his face, before muttering: “ _Right_ , wiped from existence.”  

The engines start working, and Harry grips the railing in preparation.

The Doctor grins wickedly at them before throwing the lever. “Time to go blow up a Dalek ship.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this isn't too lame. But you know, Doctor Who 50th anniversary and 1D day are on the same day... So i figured a fic was appropriate...
> 
> Hooray for proof-reading! Which I didn't do. Sorry for any errors... oops.
> 
> Enjoy!!!! :D


	4. Hello, Benjamin!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just like to make it up as I go along.” The Doctor tells them.  
> “That doesn't sound surprising.” 
> 
> Harry and Louis are abandoned on a Dalek fleet. Despite the situation, things may just be getting better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big fan of cliff hangers, tbh.

Louis scoffs, folding his arms across his chest defiantly. “That’s _hardly_ a plan,”

The Doctor only takes it to heart for a moment, frown spreading across his features. “Yes, well. I never _really_ like plans. They always get in the _way_ , you know?”

Louis doesn’t know.

“I just like to make it up as I go along.”

“That doesn’t sound surprising.” Harry mutters from where he’s perched a few feet away, leaning back against the railing.

He looks so effortlessly pretty, Louis thinks. Only for a moment, of course. Because that ship has sailed. (More ship puns.) (Good.)

 

 

The Doctor doesn’t tell them much more until they’re heading back out of the T.A.R.D.I.S. Back onto the Dalek ship. Great. Wonderful.

“You two need to get to the control room.”

“And do _what_?” Louis hisses. “We’re hardly alien-fighters, for God’s sake!”

The Doctor furrows his brow. “I should hope not.” He claps his hands together. “ _Right_ , so – control panel, big red button –”

“ _Red button_?” Harry asks. “They have those on alien ships?”

“Well, how should I know?” the Doctor asks, frowning.

“ _You’re_ –” Louis starts. “Shouldn’t you – don’t you even _know_ what we’re looking for?!” he spits, fuming.

The Doctor scratches his head for a moment. “Of course not,” he tells them. “but it’s fine, you’re both clever –” he glances at Harry. “Well, _one_ of you’s clever.” He snaps his fingers excitedly, points down a hall. “Shut down the communications to earth. Got it? Good – see you in a mo!”

He runs off before either or the boys can question it. They’re stranded on alien ship. Without weapons, or guidance or – or fucking _anything_. He’s stuck here with _fucking Harry Styles_ – and Christ. He will _not_ cry.

 

 

“So,” Harry starts, trying to break the dooming silence. “Um, what do we –”

“Be quiet Harry,” Louis says softly. It sounds horribly broken. And it’s the politest he’s been to Harry in months.

He’s a bit shocked by it. “Lou, we need to –”

Louis laughs bitterly, side-glancing at him. His eyes are wide and watery. Frightened. “Lou.” His voice cracks on the name, and it makes Harry’s throat dry up. Louis looks at his feet. “You haven’t called me that since my twenty-first.”

Harry barely hears it. But he does. And it makes his insides hurt.

Louis’ straightens up quickly, brushing the admission off with a ruffle of his hair. “Let’s go.” He tells Harry, before striding off in the opposite direction to the Doctor.

They walk in silence for a few minutes. It’s quiet. Peaceful almost, Harry thinks. But then he remembers it’s actually an _alien space ship_ , and it’s sort of not so nice anymore. He clears his throat, because Louis is just walking, and they really don’t know where they’re going. “Um, where are we going?” he asks, purposefully not using a name in case he upsets Louis – or himself – again.

Louis shrugs, not looking back, just carries on.

“Shouldn’t we like…”

Louis glances back at him, eye brow raised. “You got a map, Harold?” It’s not nasty, or snarky, or hurtful – it’s just a bit of typical Louis Tomlinson sass.

Harry almost stumbles over his feet. Using nicknames now, are we? He doesn’t smile, of course. He’s a fantastic actor. Well… not really. “Right,” he breathes, trying not to trip over himself again.

So they continue.

It must be some kind of joke, because as luck would have it, they stroll right into what looks to be a control room. Free of Daleks, too.

“Huh,” Louis says, “guess we found it.”

“Guess so.” Harry says, awe struck. The room is so typically a control room. Like, there’s a big ass control panel in the centre of the room, and lots of screens and computer-y-things.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, which seems odd.

“How can you even fit a phone in those pockets?” Louis asks dryly.

Harry raises an eye brow, looks pointedly at Louis’ jeans while he fishes the phone out. “Could ask you the same thing,”

Louis rolls his eyes, continues inspecting the room.

Harry bites his lip, holding off a smile. This feels an awful like talking, doesn’t it? Like, friendly talking. Conversing. Joking around. Being mates. Maybe he’s a bit rusty and this whole friendship-with-Louis thing.

Harry clears this throat, and reads the messages he’s got piling up from the boys. Oops.

 

**From Niall Horan:**

yo where did ya go?

 

**From Niall Horan:**

tink I just saw a kangaroo!!!

 

**Zayn Malik:**

Have you seen lou?

 

**Liam Payne:**

were r you and lou???

 

**Liam Payne:**

were the fuck are you!!!??!? theres like robot dudes shoting ppl and shit!!!

 

“It’s the guys,” he tells Louis.

Louis hums. “Not much we can do,” he says softly, sadness bleeding through the words.

Harry swallows hard. _Are the boys okay? Is his mum okay? Gemma? What if the world’s_ – he shuts off his runaway thoughts, biting into his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“How do you even _have_ reception?” Louis interrupts his mental breakdown, not glancing up from where he’s reading something on a screen. “We’re in space, for god’s sake.”

Huh. Harry doesn’t know. Weird. He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face and stepping back to perch on a keyboard. It’s probably safe.

He keeps himself distracted, watching Louis potter around the room, probably looking for some buttons to mash, and things to break. Louis good at breaking things.

 

 

 _Communications to earth… hmm…_ There should be a manual, or something. That would be most helpful, Louis thinks. Or even a few hundred power cords, so he can rip them all out – or maybe spill water on them. But where would he get water from…? _Shit_. He needs a better strategy.

“ _Intruders_!” A horribly familiar, grating voice booms.

Louis whirls round, heart in his throat as he spots three Daleks in the entrance of the room. Harry’s only a few meters away, eyes-wide and terrified. _Harry_. He needs to save Harry.

Another one draws closer. “Identify yourself!”

Louis swallows hard. _Oh shit_. There’s no way he’s shit-talking his way off a fucking alien space ship! There’s no way out. They’re fucked.

“Hello, _Benjamin_!”

All heads, Dalek and human, whip round to see the Doctor, marching through an archway. He’s frowning. “No, you’re right, probably shouldn’t say that again… not really my style.” He grins, rubs his hands together excitedly and walks in further. Looks a bit manic, if you ask Louis.

“Who are you – explain! _Explain_!” a Dalek demands.

The Doctor frowns again. “Never get used to that,” he mutters. “I’m Benjamin, here for a ship inspection.” He holds out what looks like a license.

What.

The Daleks say nothing. Just stare.

“Maybe not so believable…” The Doctor says quietly, lowering the license. “Louis, be a lad and push that big red button, would you?”

Louis blinks rapidly, and looks for a – “ _oh_ ,” he breathes when he finds it. It is what it is. Literally – a large red button. He looks to the Doctor for confirmation.

“Let her rip,” he tells Louis.

So Louis does. Slamming his palm flat onto the button, energy bubbling up under his skin. He feels jittery, the adrenaline from the near-death experience kicking in.

The Doctor lets out a laugh. “ _Ha ha_!”

A loud beeping fills the room, loud enough to make them all jump, and Harry cover his ears. The Daleks are turning away now. Fleeing, he hopes.

“Is beeping _good_?!” he hears Harry ask.

The Doctor looks skeptical, eyes darting to where the Daleks have fled. “ _Uh_ , yes – well, _probably_ –”

An automated voice comes over the ship’s speakers. “ _Self destruct initiated_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably only like... two chapters to go. I hope you're liking this! Lemme know.  
> Enjoy :)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. So... I don't even know what happened. I like Doctor Who, I suppose.  
> Hopefully it's not too horrible. Didn't really proof it. Oh dear. 
> 
> ENJOY :)


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